Stolen Kisses
by snapdrakon17
Summary: A fluffy 'fic about the stolen kisses that Arthur and Ariadne share, the ten that Arthur initiate, and the one time that Ariadne does. Not completely original, but fun to write anyways. Later chapters get darker, so be warned. :) A/A, of course. Please take the time to R&R!
1. Seing Double

A/N: Hello, all. This is my first Inception 'fic, so please, leave a review. I'm not trying to be that arrogant author asking for reviews, but I'd just love to hear some feedback. :) Thanks.

Note: This is the somewhat updated version, but it is unbetaed so if there are any mistakes, feel free to point them out.

* * *

_Seeing Double: Second Kiss_

Ariadne's eyes shot open as the roar of pounding water flooded into the van, and her chest tightened as she fought not to gasp at the frigidity of the liquid. She shut her eyes adamantly as the water submerged her neck and head. After the drama of the deeper dream sharing, the shock of the icy water hitting her skin was actually quite welcome. The restricting nylon of her seatbelt was the only thing preventing her petite body from floating into the swirling currents caused by the sinking vehicle, and she bobbed against its restraint, the strap cutting into her chest. She opened her eyes against the sting of the water for a moment, lips clamped shut to preserve the little breath of oxygen she still had. Out of the corner of her eye, Ariadne could see movement as the occupants of the backseat started to struggle against the sacks over their heads.

Her eyes fluttered closed again, lungs aching, begging for the sweet air she knew that was swiftly dwindling farther away as they sank, but unwilling to move until she knew it was safe to surface. A firm, calloused grip wrapped round her elbow, and Ariadne cracked open her eyelids warily in case it was Fischer. Between the disorienting whorls of water, Ariadne could make out the reassuringly familiar face of Arthur.

Unclasping her seatbelt, Ariadne treaded water, a dull ache pounding behind her eyes as her need for oxygen increased. Arthur held out the mouthpiece of the black oxygen tank that had been stored under his seat with a pointed glance, and with a grateful expression, she depressed the button, taking in the rush of tinned air. Arthur flashed her the universal 'are you okay?' sign, and Ariadne nodded in affirmation, handing him back the mouthpiece, her hair floating in tendrils around her face.

Arthur took a breath from the oxygen tank, his jaw clenching as he locked his lips around the mouthpiece. He swam over to Cobb, whose eyes were still closed, little streams of silver bubbles exiting his mouth with his continuous exhale. Ariadne couldn't tell him that Cobb had stayed behind. All she could do in that situation was give him a sympathetic glance and a pat on the back as she kicked up toward the surface, mirroring Yusuf, who was heading up about six meters to her right.

Gasping, she clambered up the shallow gravel shore and sat on a flat rock, clenching her hands so they wouldn't shake from cold, her muscles throbbing. Her hair hung in tangled snarls around her face, and she turned her head as Arthur surfaced beside her, climbing onto a parallel rock, the water lapping at their toes.

"What happened?" He asked breathlessly, looking at her, his demeanor rumpled by the hasty exit of the van. His impeccably gelled hair was mussed, and his complexion paled by the cold. Ariadne guessed that she looked the same, and looked Arthur in the eye.

"Cobb stayed." She replied in a shaky drawl, a tremor coating her voice with both the cold and the confusion of the multiple kicks up the levels. It _was_ her first job after all. Her hand ghosted over the pocket that held her golden bishop, but regretfully enough, her jeans were too soaked for her to pull it out. She refocused on Arthur, mentally tracing out the contours of his face, reading into the lines of his features as the frustration clenched into his posture. The sheer exasperation rolling off the Point Man was proof that he was human. That he wasn't a machinelike droid. That he _cared_. For his best friend, for the team- yes, perhaps even Eames- and... her? She could see the subtle tensing in his shoulder muscles, the slight clench of the fingertips on the rock.

"With Mal?" The question was quietly uttered, as Arthur regained control of himself and looked up as he met Ariadne's eyes. "No, to find Saito." Arthur sighed and looked away, over the silvery gray expanse of water. "He'll be lost."

Ariadne's mind flashed back to the moment that she'd hung on to the house, wind whipping sharp droplets of rain into her eyes. "Find Saito, and bring him back!" She'd screamed at Cobb, her fingers aching as they searched for purchase on the wooden support pillar. "I will!" Cobb had promised. He'd _promised_. And he'd come back. She was sure of it.

"No, he'll be okay." Ariadne replied with certainty, looking back up to meet Arthur's dark eyes. She almost missed the almost imperceptible question that exited his mouth a moment later. "And you?" Ariadne gazed at him and asked the most stupid question she'd ever said. "Me?"

"Are you okay? I mean, this being your first official dream sharing experience and all." Arthur repeated, his eyes searching her face, reading the tiniest reactions of her features. He noticed the small tremors along her arms, and peeled off his suit jacket, draping it along her shoulders. He almost smiled at the blush that lit her pallid cheeks, and his heart melted as Ariadne raised her warm golden flecked gaze to meet his. "I'll be okay."

Arthur scooted over, snaking an arm around her shoulders. Ari gazed up at him in surprise, then a smile curved itself along her lips. The lips he'd stolen a chaste kiss from in the second level. "Alright, Arthur, maybe I'm more than alright." Arthur allowed himself to relax, and he allowed a smile to grace his features after a moment.

"Quick, give me a kiss." Ariadne joked lightly, re-enacting the moment from the second level. It seemed forever ago, yet so recent at the same time. Her eyes widened as Arthur complied, pressing her lips to his with a hand on the nape of her neck, her own hands coming round to clasp around the small of his back. It was a perfect moment. _Their_ moment. One she wouldn't forget. But then, every little magical moment she caught him looking at her was firmly imprinted in her memory.

"How do you feel now?" Arthur asked playfully, pulling back for breath. "Definitely better than okay." Ariadne replied, her large eyes lit and sparkling. She leaned back against the comfort of Arthur's side, their gazes over the waters, and their comrades before flitting back to Fischer and Eames, sitting to the left. Eames gave the two a knowing look and a nod, and that was the last thing Ariadne saw before she felt the jolt of the kick, summoning them back to reality.

As Ari went through customs and immigration, she watched Cobb. And as she picked up her luggage, she discreetly watched Eames and Yusuf, the tiniest of polite smiles on her lips as they nodded their _au revoirs_. As she left the building, she nodded at Saito, who nodded back as he slid into his shiny black limousine.

But as her gaze at last settled on Arthur, he'd already opened the cab door for her under the pretenses that he was only being a gentleman for a stranger. She knew better as he gave her a knowing glance, closing the door behind her. As Ari headed to The Hilton to settle for a night before she returned to Paris, her fingers came up to touch her lips.

She could still taste the flavour of Arthur's kiss. And she somehow knew that the team would meet again, and who knew what would happen when she and Arthur rendezvoused? Her smile widened, and she settled for the ride, not knowing that in the black Solstice Pontiac behind her cab, a familiar Point Man was keeping an eye on his young protege... and potential girlfriend...?

* * *

Thanks for reading, reviews would be really appreciated. More chapters coming sometime soon. No guarantees, but I'll try my best. :)

~ Snappers


	2. Marketplace Meanderings

A/N: Thank you to all my wonderful reviewers, readers, people who favourited and added this story to their alerts. I love you all.

I'd like to take the time to reply to all you lovely people who reviewed as my small token of thanks. :)

cinematherapy: You have no idea how honoured I am to have you reviewing. I know you as quite active in the Inception archives, and I've seen you mentioned by assorted authors for reviewing. Thanks so much for the wonderful review.

iheartardis: Thanks for the review! It's very appreciated. I definitely tried to add the cuteness factor into the story and it's nice to have that acknowledged.

kim: Thank you, kim! Your review was very ingratiating, and it's nice to have support.

Guest: Au contraire, yet another anonymous viewer. It was very appreciated for you to leave your review. And here below is your request, a second consecutive chapter. (:

ItsNatalie: Thanks! I'm glad the former chapter was a good start.

happytree0922: Thanks for the sweet review!

* * *

_Marketplace Meanderings: Stolen Kisses Two_

A week passed, and Arthur grudgingly admitted to himself that perhaps... just perhaps, he had an unprofessional interest towards the cute Architect. The Point Man within him was calm, but roiling with confusion and a sense of robotic duty, but the human half that he rarely showed was mooning after the vivacious little Parisian that had wormed her way into his heart.

Today, Arthur had gone through his regular routine, waking up at six in his hotel room, showering, and then returning to his job of watching Ariadne. He had to admit that he rather enjoyed this job, but he still twisted his features in a wry look when he remembered the rather mischievous expression on Dom's face when he assigned the man to the job.

* * *

"Watch Ariadne. Make sure she doesn't get into any trouble with Cobol, or anyone else. She'll mind you the least if she finds out you've been following her." Dom had given Arthur the tiniest of smiles and a clap on the back, then exited the men's room to leave the airport.

* * *

"Monsieur, voilá votre café.**" A tall, leggy redheaded waitress sashayed over and cocked a hip, smiling down at the collected Point Man, and placing the deep red mug of dark coffee in front of Arthur. He gave her a nod and then looked back down at his French newspaper, taking a sip of his coffee and glancing up to look at Ariadne, who was seated two tables away. The waitress huffed and strutted away, slightly annoyed at the fact that someone as attractive as herself (as she'd been told), had been rejected by such a classy man. She served Ariadne next, placing a mug of chocolate on the table before the petite girl, a sneer curling her lip.

The Architect was perched on one of the wooden chairs, legs crossed at the ankles as she picked at a croissant. She was engrossed in a library book, and judging from Arthur's observations, it was a copy of 'The World History of Architecture', which she'd borrowed yesterday. No, he wasn't... stalking her, he just knew everything she'd done for the past week.

Arthur looked down at his mug in amusement, the colour of the ceramic akin to the colour of Ariadne's cardigan. The Architect was dressed familiarly, in red with a gray silken blouse. Her jeans were dark blue, with little splotches of ink here and there. Arthur thought it was rather cute. She was cute. He shook his head. He was here on business purposes, and not for his own personal enjoyment. A small bemused sigh left his lips as he read about a recent arrest of a museum thief in the news.

"Arthur?" His head snapped up. Damn it. The girl in front of him was definitely not tall, leggy or red haired. Quite the opposite in fact. Warm gold-flecked eyes gazed at Arthur out of a porcelain face, lips curved in a smile. "Arthur, what are you doing here?"

Arthur's lips clamped in a grimace and he managed a tight smile at the animated girl who'd just leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him in a friendly embrace. He prayed that she couldn't hear his heart thudding in his chest, or see the flush rising up his neck. His Point Man training kicked in, and an automated response rolled out of his mouth. "Just visiting Paris, Ariadne. How have you been?" Gently, he disentangled her from his torso, and put down his now crumpled newspaper, which had been sandwiched between the two.

"I'm good, Arthur. I've passed my exams at school, and Miles says I'm very promising," Ariadne chirped, ticking the event off with a finger. 5 days ago, Arthur immediately thought. "And yesterday I went to see the new performance of The Mousetrap at the theatré." Of course something like that would catch your fancy, Arthur relayed in his mind. And of course, he knew that she'd been to the theatré at precisely two in the afternoon. He'd sat fourteen rows behind her. "What are you visiting Paris for? Another job offer?" Arthur shook his head. "No, just wanted to visit the city. Where it all started, no? This was the café you unconsciously based the dream café off of on your first dream share with Dom." Ariadne looked around in awe. "How'd you know? I didn't even realize until we got to the second level of the Inception job." Arthur chuckled and pointed to himself. "Point Man."

Ariadne rolled her eyes and adjusted the creamy yellow scarf she'd worn. "And would the esteemed Point Man like to go to the street market with a little Parisian architect?" Arthur smiled, left a tip for his coffee on the table, and stood up, offering Ariadne his arm. "Shall we?" "We shall. Ever so classy, Arthur."

Arthur allowed himself a chuckle and led the Architect out of the café and into the warmth of the bright sunlight. They were in the more picturesque part of Paris, and the cobblestone beneath their feet set the feel for the road. The market was a ways off, and Arthur would occasionally glance down at the petite girl on his arm and muse at how the morning light made her all the more beautiful.

As they neared the market stalls, Ariadne caught Arthur's gaze and giggled. "Like what you see?" She asked playfully, not knowing how the words caught at Arthur's heart, and how much he wanted to say yes. "Just wanted to look at you while I can. It's been some time since I've seen you," He lied smoothly.

Ariadne nodded, then gasped as her eyes stopped on a cheery red shaded stall on the right side of the road. The table was heaped with hundreds of different scarves. Arthur had to compose himself as he took an undignified stumble, as Ariadne suddenly slipped from his grip and trotted over to the stall.

Arthur chuckled tightly, ambling over to his female companion. She gazed in delight at the different scarves, and Arthur shoved his hands in his pockets, eying the merchandise with an expert eye. Ariadne smoothed her fingertips against different patterns, a sigh of content escaping her lips.

A couple of minutes later, Arthur's eye caught the fact that Ariadne's gaze and touch often relit upon an elegant silvery green scarf etched with white. Gently prying it from her fingers, Arthur conversed with the stall owner, handing over a few Euros to pay for the scarf.

Ariadne's eyes grew bigger, and she hardly dared breathe as she looked up at Arthur. Sweeping her hair to the side, she let Arthur gently undo the knot of her current scarf. She didn't see the blush that lit his cheeks as he undid the scarf, which many men had probably wanted to do, curious as to what lay underneath the almost always unseen skin.

Arthur couldn't resist as he tied the scarf round her neck. "Happy birthday, Ari." He whispered as he pressed a gentle kiss to her neck. He was gone when Ariadne turned around, mystified.

* * *

A/N: Did any of you catch the subtle reference I made to JGL's "Real men don't have swag, they have class." quote? It's in a piece of Ariadne's dialogue. :D

So, for the ** starred/asterisked part, the French basically means "Sir, here's your coffee."

I have a slightly 'contesty' request for you lovely people now. I need a male OC for the next installation of Stolen Kisses, and he must be in his late twenties to early thirties. And of course, he must be Ariadne's type. A slight spoiler here. If you would be so obliged, either leave a review, or PM me your submission if you would like to take part in this story. I will announce the winner next chapter, and the selected OC will make quite an important appearance in the next chapter.

The above contest is over, and I received two submissions, which honestly isn't too bad, though I sort of wanted more. :) But thanks anyways!

And thank you for reading part two of Stolen Kisses!

~ Snappers


	3. A Unwelcome Surprise: Part One

A/N: Dang, guys. I'm amazed you guys actually still follow this (if you actually do/are), heh. Sorry for the awfully long wait! :( I don't really have an excuse except for the fact that school was overwhelming and there were a ton of projects and other crap to do.

There is also new cover art! :) Check it out if you deign to.

Thank you and a mini shoutout to insanityisgenius and Daisy321 for their inputs on a male OC!  
Meet Guillaume LeMarc. He's an art student in Ariadne's class and an antagonist in this drabbly series. :)

Warning! There are sexual references and abuse scenes in this chapter. This chapter might actually edge on the T rating, and it is darker than any other things you have read in previous chapters of Stolen Kisses. If you are uncomfortable with abusive relationships, you might want to skip out on the content here.

It ain't so fluffy in here anymore. Shit just hit the fan.

_Note that this is PART ONE of a two chapter span of one kiss, instead of the customary one kiss per chapter drabble thing I had going before._

Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to Inception! Duh. :)

* * *

_A Unwelcome Surprise: Part One_

Ariadne rubbed the back of her neck as she took the key out of the lock, toying with the brass key as she closed the aged wooden door. The apartment building she lived in was rather old but she'd chosen it for it's simple but elegant 19th century architecture. And the rent was cheap, so who was she to ask for more? Sure, the once beautiful powder blue fleur de lis wallpaper was peeling in the small hallway from the doorway and everything was pretty much second-hand, but the place practically screamed of Ariadne's artistic and vintage personality and to her, it was home, more than any other place in the world.

Sighing, Ariadne slid off her red cardigan and hung it up on a wall hook, by a black, obviously male overcoat, checking the time on the red wall clock by the kitchen door. It was almost two in the afternoon. She walked into the kitchen, taking the pitcher and pouring out a glass of water, gladly wetting her throat that had been raspingly dry after the cab ride home. Rummaging around in the cabinets, she didn't notice the male figure at the dining table look up at the creak of the front door, standing up at the diminutive woman's arrival. She didn't notice him stand up and walk silently behind her. Ariadne was in the process of taking clean glasses from the drying rack by the sink and placing them on a high cabinet, balanced on her tiptoes. The man snaked his arms around her waist, leaning down to tuck his head into the junction of her neck and shoulder intimately.

Ariadne jumped, startled, fumbling with the glass. "Guillaume!" She chided, placing the glass down on the counter with a small clink. Her rosy lips curled in a small smile, and the man chuckled, pressing a chaste kiss to her cheek. Ariadne couldn't help but think of how different this kiss was to the one she'd received from Arthur just an hour before. Subconsciously, she tucked her bottom lip beneath her teeth as was her nervous tic, and cleared her thoughts to hear what her male companion was saying.

"Ariadne, ma cherie. How was your day?" "Average. And yours, Guillaume?" She chafed at the stiffness of his otherwise eloquent French name on her tongue, and as the man's fingers drifted up to brush her neck and scarf, she swore mentally. She hadn't bargained for the fact that Guillaume would be here and that she'd be wearing a scarf that was new... and still smelled strongly of Arthur's cologne. Had he already taken in Arthur's musky scent and assumed the worst?

Guillaume didn't seem to notice, and he smiled, taking Ari's small hand in his calloused artist's fingers, leading her to the dining table where a series of drafts and blueprints were laid out. "I've been working on our museum project all morning. It's coming along well, ma cherie." Ariadne was silent, mind working furiously to find a way for her to escape while still trying to look interested in the blueprints. He took her quietness as approval, and a smile curled his lips. Ariadne nodded almost in relief at his ignorance of the blatantly different scarf adorning her collar and backed away toward the safety of her bedroom, murmuring something about going to the washroom. Her hand fumbled behind her on the wall searching for the doorknob, eyes darting anywhere but at his face.

Guillaume's eyes narrowed suspiciously at her skittishness, and he stepped away from the dining table, eyes catching at the new brightness of her scarf. He stepped forward and fingering the silky turquoise material, eyes cold blue shards in his suddenly threatening face. "What is this, Ariadne?" His cheeks had flushed with ugly colour, and his voice trembled with rage, nostrils flaring as he took in the undeniable scent of a man's cologne. "Ariadne Ellen Bourgeois. Where did you get this? Have you been with another man? Have you been cheating on me? Répondez moi!*" His French accented English no longer seemed gentle or elegant, but now it was rough and grating to Ariadne's ears, and she let out a small sound of fright.

Ariadne squeaked something unintelligible in response, and in an instant, Guillaume's taller, broader frame had her cowered in a corner of her own apartment, a stray metal frame digging into the small of her back, puncturing her skin and raking across her delicate spine. "I said," He growled, one hand grabbing Ariadne's shoulder in a vice grip that was sure to leave purpling bruises on the girl's porcelain skin. "Have you been with another man? Was it that Arthur that you're always talking about? That colleague you always speak about in such adoring tones?" Guillaume's nails dug into Ariadne's shoulders, and she yelped in pain.

Eyes squeezed shut in fright, Ariadne hesitated, then nodded silently as Guillaume's grip grew so tight she feared her bone would crack, a single tear dripping down her cheek. She'd given up fighting Guillaume the third time his fits of rage had happened, knowing it was of no use and she'd only hurt herself even more than he already did. Every time, he'd win and dominate her tiny frame, and she'd be left the next morning alone in her bed aching all over, desperately painting over her bruises and cuts with makeup. Sometimes she'd even wear long sleeved shirts in the summer to hide the black and blue bruises on her arms and wrists and have strengthened resolve to break up with this abusive man she'd accepted into her home, heart, and bed. But then she'd walk out into the kitchen and there he would be, affectionate and acting as if nothing had happened, offering her coffee and danishes fresh from the bakery he knew she loved and lovingly lavishing his attention upon her.

Perhaps she let him back each time because she wanted to be loved. Quite alone in Paris with none of her teammates and best friends there, Ariadne's affectionate soul craved attention. But even so, as much as she loved Guillaume, Ariadne often found her guilty thoughts returning to Arthur, the way he'd gently draped his suit jacket over her with no words said once while they were on the Inception job, working long cold nights in the Parisian chill of the huge warehouse. Or the gentle kisses they'd shared without her boyfriend's knowledge. Her lips still tingled from his touch, but Ariadne was torn - she had a boyfriend. An abusive one who doesn't love you, her mind whispered. She was technically cheating on him with Arthur, although nothing serious had happened besides the two kisses.

Shaken literally out of her thoughts, Ariadne had started crying as Guillaume shook her by the shoulders, his eyes wide and furious, spittle flying out of his mouth as he screamed at her, his hands drawing blood from her shoulders like claws. Unsaid apologies rattled in the back of her throat, and they remained there as Guillaume suddenly stopped his tirade, eyes dark with sudden lust, and instead bodily lifted her up, her legs wrapping around his waist instinctively to keep from falling as her mangled back was slammed against a wall. His eyes were so very fierce, and she couldn't tell if it was with rage or with passion. And then his lips were on hers, ravaging and unrelenting, his hands tangling roughly in her hair. It was lustful passion then, she supposed. Poor Ariadne's hands clawed weakly at his back and shoulders, fighting back a scream.

Guillaume's lips were rough, and his kisses rougher. He tasted of beer and cheap cologne, a vast difference from Arthur's sophistication and sweetness. Ariadne vaguely noted that they were moving and that Guillaume was carrying her - to her bed, no doubt. She closed down her emotions, retreating into the confines of her mind, and she sat there numbly as Guillaume practically ripped her clothes off of her body and threw her down on her bed. She felt no pain as the crimson blood from her back smeared onto the once ivory sheets. She always hid all evidence of her violation after Guillaume finished with her the next morning, crying and shivering in shame. But for now, all Ariadne could do was lock herself within her own mind and ignore the man violating her body and heart.

Her eyes were blank and staring, her body completely still as Guillaume's face filled her vision. She vaguely noted the lust shining in his eyes, the sharp bites to her neck, his moving on top of her and then him inside her. But she was dead and unfeeling, and no sound of pain or pleasure escaped her lips as she heard him give a moan in pleasure as he moved inside her, and she remained in a daze long into the late afternoon, eventually falling into a light doze. Guillaume seemed not to notice, his hips still moving unrelentingly in their sharp thrusts and pulls above her in the same staccato rhythm. Hours passed. Ariadne guessed it was past five when she felt the bed dip with Guillaume's weight as he flopped, panting and grunting, beside her on the mattress, sweaty and satisfied, biting at her neck and leaving more of the purple hickeys that adorned her pale skin like twisted leopard print. His hands slid over her bare stomach, the scraggly feeling of his nails gouging into past scars assaulting Ariadne's senses.

She wondered where Arthur was. She wondered what he'd do to Guillaume if he found her like this, broken, battered, and violated against her will. It was technically rape, the activities of the past hours. But Ariadne berated herself for her weak will and for thinking of a man she had no right to fantasize about. She fell into an exhausted sleep, too tired and in pain to even curl up protectively or pull up the blankets, her body riddled with goosebumps and blood.

* * *

Hours later, Ariadne jerked awake and found it was nearing midnight. She shot up, biting back a scream of pain as the drying scabs of the gashes on her back ripped themselves open from having stuck to her sheets. Gold flecked eyes started with fright and apprehension, scanning around the room and finally to the deeply sleeping man beside her on the bed, one arm draped possessively over her bare hips and extremities. Painfully slowly, Ariadne extricated herself from Guillaume's hold and crept across the creaking floorboards to her dresser, pulling on panties and a bra, throwing on a loose t-shirt and baggy jeans that wouldn't restrict her movement or cause her any more pain than she could help on her cuts and bruises.

Taking a deep, shuddering breath, Ariadne thought of the only person who'd still accept her amicably into his home at this hour of the night, her hands groping in the dark and finding the largest bag she had, hurriedly shoving clothes and other important items she thought she'd need into it. She developed a crick in her neck from constantly looking behind her to make sure Guillaume was still asleep, and she nearly had a heart attack when he made a small sound and rolled over on his side.

Calming her breathing, Ariadne tiptoed into the living room and hesitantly took her dream work sketchbook and another worn red sketchbook out from her office area, taking them and a small box of art supplies into the almost-full shoulder bag. Ariadne sank down onto the plushness of the couch and checked the contents of her bag - clothes, underwear, a couple of books, her art supplies, her laptop and phone, her wallet... There was something precious and important missing. But what was it? Ariadne racked her tired, pained brain, and her eyes shot wide as saucers as she remembered.

Oh god. She'd nearly forgotten her totem, her precious golden bishop that she'd hidden... her heart sank. She'd hidden it inside of her nightlight... the one in her bedroom that Guillaume currently occupied. Shit.

For a moment, Ariadne paced the length of the living room, debating whether to just leave the house without it, but no. She couldn't. It was her totem, and symbolically, she'd be nothing without it. And it was her reminder of Arthur and his support. So no, she'd have to venture back into the lion's den for her totem. Thank god Guillaume was a relatively heavy sleeper, otherwise she didn't know what she'd do.

Ariadne steeled her nerves and crept down the hallway, slid by the door, and almost jumped a mile as Guillaume let out a slight snore. Biting her cheek hard, Ariadne knelt and crawled across the wooden floorboards to where her nightlight was plugged in, and tugged it out of the socket, fingernails clawing to open the cover and reaching into the hidden crevice where she'd hidden her golden bishop.

Ariadne felt so much more reassured with her totem, and she crawled back toward the doorway, standing up and nudging open the door. Her blood froze in her veins as the ancient floorboard let out a loud creaky moan, and she heard a sleepy, muffled voice utter her name. "Ariadne?" Guillaume rubbed his eyes, but Ariadne didn't look back.

She ran, grabbing her bags, pocketing her totem, and shoved her feet into a pair of Converse. She heard thudding footsteps and a muffled oath as Guillaume stumbled, and she ran out of the door, not bothering to take the elevator, instead racing down the staircase as fast as her shorter legs could take her, the steps blurring past her vision as Ariadne scrambled out of the building and into the rainy streets of Paris.

Nightlife and lights went past in a stream as Ariadne ran, not looking where she was going, just focusing on not slipping on the wet pavement, keeping her bag from banging against her back and keeping scraggly strands of coffee coloured hair out of her eyes. As she grew more and more tired, her bag grew heavier and heavier digging into her shoulder and her heart grew weary. Ariadne stopped to catch her breath, cheeks flushed with exertion, and with a start, realized her feet had taken her along the familiar path to the university. Her instincts told her that of course, this would be one of the first places Guillaume would look if he was coming after her, so she wildly scanned the streets, jumping into the first cab that stopped relatively near her.

Once seated securely in the cab and having given the directions to Arthur's Parisian apartment building, Ariadne relaxed and let out a breath that she'd pretty much been holding ever since she'd fled her apartment, a tight stitch relenting finally from her ribs. Her jeans were soaked too tight for her to reach for the comfort of her totem, so Ariadne resigned to fiddling with her fingers and staring out of the window with huge brown eyes out of a pale face while sitting ramrod straight so her cuts wouldn't nudge the seat back. She really really hoped Arthur was at home.

* * *

About twenty minutes later, Ariadne was still running on adrenaline, and paying the cab driver with some of the last cash she had on her, Ari climbed up the flight of stairs leading to the street to Arthur's sophisticated apartment building, the golden lights swathing the contemporary architecture in an attractive atmosphere Ariadne appreciated as an architect. She stored the curves of the building in her mind for future reference, maybe for a building in a dreamscape sometime?

Ariadne took the elevator up to the penthouse, and praying to God and any deity that may reside in the skies to pity her and let Arthur still be awake and agreeable to letting her stay the night at his place, she pressed the doorbell.

A nail-biting moment passed, and Ari started to worry that Arthur wasn't there or was asleep, when the door opened. She opened her mouth to speak, but all the words died in her throat as she gaped unattractively at the person at the door.

Grey eyes gazed out of the pretty face of a woman as she popped a hip and raised a brow at the petite, soaking wet Architect looking back at her. Ariadne was, with no other words to describe it, absolutely flabbergasted. The woman before her was clad in a garishly scarlet bathrobe, blonde hair cascading down her shoulders, and looking at Ariadne like she was an insect.

Ari's heart sunk and lodged somewhere in the bottom of her stomach. A woman, no less an attractive woman, was here at Arthur's apartment at half past midnight. Oh god. Was this really happening?

The woman huffed a sigh out of perfect lips, eyes sharp and emitting emotion that was about as friendly as Cobol was. "Yes? What are you doing here?"

* * *

A/N: Cliffhanger! :3 Sorry.

* _Répondez moi_ means answer me in French

Any guesses on who the blonde is? First person to answer correctly, I'll write a A/A one-shot of your choice, second person to answer correctly I'll give a shoutout to you and one of your stories in the next chapter, and third, you get an internet cookie from me. :)

Reviews are appreciated! :) Thank you for reading.

- Snap


End file.
